-Day Fourteen-

-Yay, I'm back! New chapter! Hope you all like it! This short story might be ending soon, so get ready to find out who wins! Reviews, please? ;)-

If Minho had been acting ridiculous before, he was acting even more ridiculous now.

It was a bright day, a promise of fair weather in the clear, blue skies. Sunlight illuminated the grass outside, turning it and the trees to striking emerald. Outside the windows, he glimpsed people walking down the streets together, laughing and talking happily. It really was a great day to be out. But he couldn't go out. Newt was coming home today. He'd called earlier, and said he'd be there any minute. Of course, the sound of his voice, weighed down by his lovely British accent, had sent Minho's pulse skipping. Even over the phone, it was like a drug to listen to, and Minho drowned in it.

He was in the kitchen right now, unsure of what to do with himself. He felt giddy and nervous all at the same time. Leaning back against the counter, he fiddled with the hem of his white T-shirt. Restlessness made him want to move, to do something. But there was nothing to do but wait. He willed the front door to open.

A tiny meow to his right made him glance over. The red-and-white form of his kitten, Coal was stalking along the edge of the counter. She delicately placed one paw in front of the other, her feathery tail winding in the air behind her. As Minho watched, with a half-smile, she blinked up at him through honey-golden eyes. There seemed to be a question in her gaze. "What're you looking at?" he asked, scratching her behind the ears.

Coal purred contentedly, nosing the palm of his hand. She meowed again, more insistent than before.

Minho shrugged with one shoulder. "Yeah, I'm wondering where he is too," he muttered in complaint. Then he realized that, once again, he was lonely enough to talk to his cat. Fantastic.

Coal was, of course, unconcerned about Newt. She closed her eyes to slits as Minho continued to stroke his fingertips down her neck; she rubbed her forehead appreciatively against his arm, folding her legs under her as she sat. Minho chuckled as she poked her nose curiously at his wedding ring.

The sudden sound of keys in a lock made him jump in surprise. There were a couple of clicks from somewhere down the hallway, as the door unlocked. Then it was swinging open and the shuffling of bags and feet came, along with a familiar voice. "Damn cameras, these things are so shucking heavy. Next time we go on a trip, Sonya better pay me." A pause. The thump of a bag hitting the floor. Then: "...Minho?"

"I'm here." Heartbeat dancing, Minho stepped out from the kitchen and practically jogged to the front hall. He skidded to a halt in the entrance, just as the front door was shutting again. A wide smile threatened to surface on his face.

Newt was standing next to a bulging bag, turning a camera over in his hands. His charcoal-blue eyes were narrowed as he studied it. He looked good in a long-sleeved, navy shirt and faded jeans. His gaze flitted upward at Minho's presence. "Hey, Min," he greeted, and his voice was like sun-warmed honey. His lips curved up.

"Hi," Minho replied in an almost-mumble. He felt like a shy kid with a crush. He took a few steps closer, then slung his thumbs in his pockets. His hands itched to run through Newt's hair or press into his hips.

Newt set the camera carefully on top of his bag. "So, uh," he began mischievously, "you miss me?"

"Course I did, you shank," Minho returned good-humoredly. He struggled not to flush at the confession.

"I knew you would." Newt chuckled triumphantly. Then he looked at Minho and his expression softened. "I missed you too," he admitted, shuffling one foot on the hardwood floor. "I could barely sleep without you."

Minho remembered the too-long nights he spent alone, and his entire body simply ACHED to touch Newt. "I couldn't sleep either," he replied quietly.

"Guess we're both kinda—" Newt was cut off when Minho abruptly strode to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He pulled Newt up against him without a word. Newt blinked, surprised. Then he felt the warmth of Minho's body on his and he hugged back with a sigh.

Minho felt as though a weight had been lifted from him. He buried his face in the crook of Newt's neck and drank in the sweet scent of him. A blissful exhaled escaped his lungs. Just— This. Holding Newt. He hadn't really realized how much he'd needed it until he was doing it again. "Next time, just take me with you," he mumbled. Lifting his head, he met Newt's gaze with a warm smile.

Newt laughed. "If there is a next time, then yeah. But Sonya'll get suspicious if we share a hotel room together."

Minho arched an eyebrow. "Didn't Clint and Jeff share a room?" he asked.

"Yeah," Newt answered, and cast a look up toward the ceiling. "And you could hear them all shucking night."

"That's hilarious," Minho snickered darkly. He then quickly muttered an apology when Newt lightly smacked him on the arm. He shrugged. "Hey, it isn't my fault they don't know how to be quiet."

"Oh, and you do?" Newt queried.

Minho's face flamed at that. "I can—I know how to BE QUIET," he stammered defensively.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

Newt studied him critically. "So you're saying that if I lost this bet we have going on," he began slowly, "you wouldn't make one sound the entire time?"

Minho was pretty sure his face was crimson by now. Because if Newt gave in and threw Minho back onto a bed right now, he would be a mess, begging for more. He knew he would, and it only made him WANT it. He cleared his throat. "...no. I wouldn't." It was such a lie.

Newt was all too-aware of it, too. "All right, if you're sure..." He trailed off, and bent his head closer to Minho's. Minho swallowed uneasily as Newt's mouth found his neck, soft on his skin. His fingers tightened on Newt's waist. Newt ghosted tiny kisses down Minho's throat, pausing at the neckline of his T-shirt. Minho was frozen in place, almost afraid to move. This was too much, too vulnerable. He didn't trust himself.

He felt Newt's hands dropping to his hips, toying with the bottom of his shirt. Newt snuck a hand underneath and pressed his palm flat against the ripple of Minho's stomach. Minho bit his lip. Then the smallest of gasps left him as Newt's hand travelled farther, up to his chest. He shut his eyes. "Angel." The name came out the way he might've said "stop."

Newt's lips found Minho's ear and a rough, sinful whisper made Minho tremble. "Nervous yet?"

Minho clung to Newt, not wanting to give in, but not wanting to let go either. Then Newt kissed his neck, and though it was slow, it was all tongue and teeth. He lingered at a place beneath Minho's jaw. With a low growl that shocked Minho, he sank his teeth gently into the sensitive skin. Minho couldn't help it; he groaned weakly, tipping his head to let Newt have more skin to explore. Newt stayed in that same spot, torturing his husband, nibbling harshly at his neck. His teeth dug in particularly hard and Minho hissed partly in pain, partly in pleasure.

Now he knew what Newt was doing. He was going to leave a damn hickey. On shucking PURPOSE. That little shank.

"Newt..." Minho clutched the back of Newt's shirt in his hands, searching for anything to keep him sane. Newt's tongue grazed his jaw and a tortured sound came from the back of his throat.

"Just give in, Minho," Newt growled. The hand under Minho's shirt was tense on his chest. Desire laced his voice. He caught Minho's earlobe between his teeth, issuing a sharp intake of breath. "I WANT you. I want you now, so just—give in already."

Minho fought for enough air as Newt's mouth burned his skin. "Not before you do," he managed.

"Dammit, Min." Newt nosed into the curve of Minho's collarbone, frustration making him harsh when he nipped at his husband's throat. "You're killing me."

Minho grinned triumphantly and cupped Newt's jaw in his hands. Guiding the blonde's face to his, he left a tender kiss on Newt's mouth. It was sweetly innocent compared to the other things he was thinking of doing to Newt right now. "Sorry, love," he murmured against Newt's mouth. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."

In reply, Newt groaned in despair.

Well, Minho thought, this bet might get a little more interesting.